The life and lies of Albus Dumbledore
by ivygrah
Summary: Albus Dumbledore and his journey through life from his last year at Hogwarts to his last confrontation with Gellert Grindelwald. Some AU elements but overall canon based. Featured Unspeakables, Tom Riddle Jr. , Nicolas Flamel. Later featuring mentions of AD/GG slash (not explicit), AD/OFC (het), AD/OMC. Aka, how Dumbledore became one of the most feared bad ass wizards of his time.
1. Best laid plans

_1899, spring_

* * *

_Dear Mr. Dumbledore,_

_I'm pleased to hear from you once again. I do think your performance at International Alchemical Conference was stellar (They do not give gold medals for nothing less than groundbreaking, after all). Your unusual out of the box approach regarding inanimate - to - animate transmutations has attracted a lot of attention from professional alchemists. If you would like I could provide you with a list of Warlocks from that field that could aid you in gaining your Mastery in Alchemy._

_Alas, I regret to inform you that my schedule is quite tight at the moment, not the least because I am not sure my half a millenia of experience at Alchemy would be beneficial for an unexperienced learner._

_However, should you still have curiosity in Alchemy in Twenty years or so, after you have gained more experience in magic in general, please do contact me again._

_Deepest regards,_

_N. Flamel_

* * *

"Dodge!" Tall and lanky, Albus Dumbledore, widely known around the school as the wizard who knew almost everything and never helped anyone with their homework anyways, was quickly advancing in the direction of E. 'Dogbreth' Dodge - an ugly hufflepuff fellow, who was practising charms with an annoyed looking Ravenclaw.

"Dumbledore." Distaste was plainly evident in the Ravenclaws voice, "Do you know no manners? Honestly, _Griffindors_ these days..." She spat Dumbledore's house the same way one would spat a curse.

"Cassandra Worme." He acknowledged the ravenclaw with a disinterested gaze from above his spectacles. It made him seem even more condescending than usual.

"Albus!" 'Dogbreath' Dodge, oblivious to undercurrents between his tutor and his idol, happily exclaimed, inwardly thanking the stars for the rescue, as he was awful at charms, especially since he has been assigned an unwilling remedial tutor, Cassandra. "Is everything okay?"

"Smashing. splendid, even." Dumbledore replied, dryly as his gaze turned to his friend. Dodge did not understand sarcasm. "I am sorry to disrupt this - meeting, but it truly is _urgent_."

Cassandra glared at him, before turning to Dodge. "You're not going to pass your NEWT charms anyways." And stormed off.

"Don't worry, Elphias, I'm sure everything will be just fine. Worme's just too tight strung because of that awful business with Black. He changed his mind about their betrothal, you know."

Dodge sighed. "Nah, she might be le fay level of horrible, but I'll fail charms, nonetheless."

"Now, don't be so hard on yourself, if you'd like I'll help you myself."

"Really?" Dodge Sounded desperate and hopeful " I thought you were going to study alchemy independently so that Flamel would take you as his apprentice?"

Albus scowled involuntarily, before forcing a brittle smile. "He's a very busy man, Elphias, but that is partly what I wanted to talk to you about." Albus paused for a moment. "You did get into your inheritance last month, didn't you?"

"Yes." Dogbreath grinned. "My awful cow of an aunt died and left me all the money. Father was furious. He thought he was going to get the money, she hated him the least in the family, you know, but she told me once that my father was an arrogant prick who needed to be taught a lesson so I think she did it just to annoying him from lands beyond, you know."

"She sounds absolutely delightful." Albus retorted,

"She wasn't as bad as others, yes." Dodge really did not know sarcasm. "But why did you want to know? Is Aberforth in trouble, do you need money to bail him from aurors again?"

"No, my friend." Albus looked even more annoyed at the mention of his brother, who, as he privately thought, and most teachers agreed, was a huge disappointment and an embarrassment compared to Albus. "Actually I wondered perhaps if come June you could lend me some money so I could go traveling, to learn foreign magics, you know, visit Pyramids, Alexandrian library and the like..."

He trailed off at the sight of his friend, who was grinning even wider than usual and to Albus's eyes looking quite deranged.

"Oh, I'd love to go travelling with you, Albus, what a splendid idea!"

Dumbledore privately thought to himself that if there was a deity who was overlooking him (wizards weren't known to worship gods, but since Albus was half a mudblood, his views on deities were quite contradictory), it was laughing at him quite hysterically at this moment.

"Great. Just stellar, Elphias. I'm glad we're on the same page."

* * *

_1899, early summer_

* * *

_Mr. A.P.W.B. Dumbledore,_

_Department of Unfortunate Events regrets to inform you that your mother, Kendra Dumbledore, has passed to Lands Beyond yesterday at 3 am as a result of a magical accident, causes or perpetrator unclear. The coroner has ruled out foul play. We offer you our condolences and inform you that the funeral must be held no more than a week after someone's passing. Please contact us when you decide to retrieve the body from the Ministry Morgue._

_Our sombre regards and condolences,_

_Dep. of Unfortunate Events,_

_Ministry of Magic._

* * *

The funeral was a morbid and modest affair. Albus knew his mother enough to know that she would have detested this farce: their gossipy neighbours comming to 'pay their condolences' while secretly hoping to hear a juicy story about how the bitch Kendra got what she deserved, how she was dabling in forbidden Dark arts and being the ignorant mudblood had paid the price, or finally how her poor innocent misguided squib daughter killed her in hopes of escaping imprinmebt.

The last one actually hurt, even though Albus has been accustomed to stares of distrust and unfavorable rumors ever since his father got himself thrown into Azkaban. He had to spend all of his first two years at Hogwarts making sure his image was stellar and without a hitch so that he could prove himself to be a good wizard and get a chance at a better life after his graduation.

However, people gossiping about his sister murdering their mother was like a knife being stabbed in his stomach over and over again, since it was the truth.

Ariana did not mean it, of course, and yet her temperament got better of her and the untamed, untrained magic got the best of her and mother, Ariana's prime caretaker, was now several feet underground and Albus was now expected to become the prime caretaker since his brother was not yet of age.

Plans of magnificent travels, of seeing the world and learning magics he had not known that existed, becoming a wizard that Nicolas Flamel inferred he could never hope to be and shoving that to that old guys ugly face - all of Albus's dreams were crushed just because his sister was damaged beyond fixing.

Albus felt boiling anger deep inside him - it was all so horribly unfair, and he wanted to blame some one, to be able to point fingers at the culprit and maybe get revenge but he knew that as much as he wanted to blame her, Ariana, it wasn't her fault, that it was no ones fault, except maybe of those muggle boys who have damaged his sister so irreparably, but as much as he wanted to something in revenge, Azkaban was not in Albus's plans. afterall, now it was his responsibility he had to think of his siblings' betterment as well as his own.

And the NEWTs were just a week away, too.

And Albus remembered one of his mother's proverbs, the one that he remembered Father teasing about 'showing her mudblood roots'.

It never rains but it pours, indeed.

* * *

_1899, summer_

* * *

The great hall was polished beyond what was normal, it sparkled and twinkled, house elves undoubtedly had been delighted to polish it to magnificence.

The seventh year students of all houses, all dressed in their finest of black robes and all with wizard caps on their heads, sat at their respective tables, amongst them mingled proud relatives.

The teachers, dressed in their finer robes as well, were seated in front of them at the great table. Some looked proud, others looked bored or disinterested, while one of them, the headmaster Black has an expresion on his face that rather indicated that he was constipated than that he was about to adress a new batch of recent Hogwarts graduates.

Slowly he rose from his headmasters seat and went to stand behind the speaking podium, he cleared his throat and the chit chat died down almost immediately.

No one wanted to offend Phineus Black, least of all when he was already clearly in a foul mood.

"Students of the class of" he paused, looking down at the sheet of papers his deputy had shoved to him minutes before he went to address them "1899" He continued nonchalantly . "Faculty and relatives."

"It is my - honor "he snorted to himself. "To speak before you today and congratulate" he spat the word as if it was poison '' on your graduation." The stopped, glaring at the crowd, before they gathered their wits and gave some pitiful applause "I am certain you all are destined for great things." He continued reading out of the paper, however his claim was cheapened by the fact that he turned to his deputy and asked "Did _you_ write this garbage?"

The rest of the faculty as well as the majority of students and relatives looked bemused as Headmaster Black started berating his own deputy in public.

Someone walked up to the Headmaster.

"Sir."

The headmaster, his rant interrupted, turned to the speaker who turned out to be that ponce of a head boy that they had this year.

"What is it, Dumbledore?!"

"Perhaps it is best to wrap this up, sir."

Headmaster Black glared at the insolent know it all brat but smirked to himself, frightening the boy as he told Dumbledore to address the graduate class himself if he so wished.

Sufficiently satisfied in his knowledge that he humiliated at least one of the graduates before they left their school for ever, Black retreated to his quarters were his bottle of firewhiskey was so patiently awaiting for him.

Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore, who hated public speaking more than he hated quidditch, mainly because he was terrible at it, forced himself to stand at the podium and finished reading the sentimental drivel that the deputy had written.

* * *

_1899, summer_

* * *

_Elphias,_

_yes, I am completely sure that I will be unable to join you on our great trip. While it would have been magnificent to visit the crypts of foregone Faroes and visit the great Library - have you heard that the muggle one had been destroyed for millenia - such a waste, muggles do not have protective charms - but I am as of this year and most likely the next tied down to Godric's hollow, unfortunately._

_However, do not hesitate to write me if any job openings come up at your father's firm - I am afraid my financial situation is less than ideal and I would be immensely grateful for any work now that I have to feed my family._

_I am thrilled to hear that you have passed your charms exam, but as I do not have any contacts at the ministry, I am afraid I will have to wait for my results when they come by owl._

_Wishing you all the best of adventures,_

_Albus._

* * *

The summer weather this was rather perfect. Any other year Albus would have been delighted in the wonderful weather and even spent some time outdoors, and not coped up in his room, studying.

However, this year was horrible enough so that even the perfect summer weather could not redeem it.

Albus's seventh year had started great. His slytherin brother found other things to do than bother him, especially since the summer before Albus's contacts (Elphias's father who had his own law firm) helped to retrieve Aberforth from the auror custody. It had been nothing serious, his brother had just gotten himself involved in a brawl and was merely guilty of disorderly behavior so they let him out easily enough. Since the two brothers had reached a sort of impasse which was great news for Albus who was studying not only for the upcoming NEWTs, which he knew he could pass already and with great results, but also for the International Alchemical Conference were he planned to get the attention of Nicolas Flamel, the famed alchemist who had created the philosopher;s stone.

International Alchemical Conference had went better than he expected, yet Flamel still rejected to take Albus as his apprentice.

And that's when the year really went to hell.

Within a few months his mother died, his dreams were crushed and now instead of going on a fantastical journey that would have undoubtedly have paved his future he was doomed for the life of mediocrity in a town he hated amongst people who were unexceptional and mediocre themselves.

His worst fears were realised and even though wallowing in self pity was not in his nature, Albus did just that.

Of course unbeknownst to Albus, a visitor just arrived at Godric's hollow, one that in later years Albus would either delight or dispair at meeting.

Bathilda Bagshot had a visitor.


	2. Letters sent and not sent

_1899, summer_

* * *

_Dear Mother,_

_were you in pain? Why didn't you protect yourself? You were a gifted witch, it would have been easy for you to do so. Were you scared? Of death? Of leaving us behind? Of the lands beyond, of getting punished for your sins-_

_You told once, that you believed in after life, you said father mocked you for your mudblood superstitions but that before he that you would go to church together._

_I know you never went after Ariana-_

_Was it lonely, mother, living without father? Did you miss him or resent him?_

_Did you know I hated him once, for what he did. His rage had blackened all of our names, and now Ariana's rage got better of her._

_Did you not defend yourself because of her?_

_Did you loved Ariana more?_

* * *

_Father,_

_I do not know what to do._

_Why did you not think of us?_

_I cannot be the head of the family, Aberforth is an uncooperative slytherin scum and Ariana, the sweet, sweet girl, is insane._

_How can I fix this?_

_I think I cannot. But I know I have to._

_I feel so rotten just to think these resentful things._

_Why, father?_

* * *

_ Dear Bathilda,_

_madam, I would be delighted to join your dinner tommorrow, unfortunately, I have yet to master taking care of family._

_I am confident that your nephew, who you say is as inteligent as me, that he does not need a guide around town._

_Thanks again for your invitation, but things have yet to settle down_

_regards,_

_A.D._


End file.
